Gold Digger
by cosyma
Summary: Lust and greed go hand in hand.


**Gold Digger**

* * *

Isabella stood in front of him, one hand on her hip. "Well, you got your little fantasy. Now give me my money."

"It's not that easy," Edward said, shaking his head at her. "You're going to have to work for it."

"Um, I don't think so."

"But you're already dressed for the occasion." Edward let his eyes roam appreciatively over Isabella. The uniform fit her perfectly. Well, it was probably a size too small, but that's what made it perfect. Her tits were barely contained by the white ruffles at the top, and the tiny black skirt ended just inches below her ass. Fuck, why hadn't his father hired hot maids and forced them into outfits like that? That would have made Edward's childhood so, so much better.

Edward relaxed back into his father's leather desk chair, chewing on the end of the Cuban cigar he had found in one of the drawers. If this was what it meant to be the man of the house, he wholly approved. He nodded at the old-fashioned feather duster in Isabella's hand. "You even have the proper tools."

Isabella was glaring daggers at him, but Edward ignored it. She could be as pissed off as she wanted, but Edward knew she cared more about the money than she did about any shred of pride she might have left. "Fine," she spit at him. "But you'd better make it worth my while."

Turning on her heel, she flounced across the room and began half-heartedly brushing the duster over his father's various bookshelves. Edward took a minute to appreciate the sight — his father really did know how to pick them — before he spoke up again. "Yeah, that's not really what I had in mind."

"Then what the fuck do you want?" Isabella asked, clearly annoyed. "Because there is no way in hell that I'm going to scrub the baseboards with a toothbrush."

Edward let his mouth curl into a suggestive leer. "I was thinking more along the lines of the other kind of work you do on your knees."

"Fuck you."

"Or on your back, I'm flexible."

Dropping the duster to the floor in a flurry of feathers, Isabella shot him an icy glare. "I don't fucking think so," she said coldly before storming past him on her way out of the room.

Pushing himself out of the chair, Edward grabbed her elbow, jerking her back beside him. "Carlisle didn't leave you a dime, sweetheart. So I think you're going to do whatever the hell I want you to, unless you want to be living out of a cardboard box by this time tomorrow."

Isabella was still glaring at him, fury and indignation flashing through her eyes, but Edward just met her gaze with a cool, unflinching stare. She had been acting like a whore since the day she married his father, and he really didn't see any reason why that behavior should stop now that his father was dead. And it wasn't like she had a problem fucking him when his father was alive.

Edward pushed Isabella backwards, trapping her between his body and the desk. "I mean, you've spread your legs for everyone in this town for free. At least I'm offering you something in return."

"There are dozens of men in Chicago who would be happy to pay me for my services, and I'd fuck every single one of them before I'll let you lay a hand on me again."

Isabella tried to step away from him and work her arm free of his grasp, but Edward just held on tighter. He slammed her back against the edge of the desk and stepped closer to her, crowding into her personal space. "I'm not really giving you much of a choice."

"You're a bastard," Isabella hissed in his face.

"And you're a gold digger." Edward twisted the low, ruffled collar of her outfit around his hand and yanked on it, ripping it apart down to her waist to expose her high, firm breasts to his gaze. "So it's a good thing you have such nice tits. And no bra, how daring of you. I never knew a maid's uniform could lift and separate like that."

Isabella barely batted an eye, even though she was holding onto the edge of the desk so hard that Edward could see her knuckles turning white. "Let go of me, Edward."

"What are you going to do, tell on me?" Edward laughed cruelly. He was getting to her. "Because somehow I don't think anyone is going to believe that you were forced into fucking anyone."

Edward took another step forward, closing the small distance between him and Isabella and letting her feel his cock pressed hard against her stomach. "I'm going to fuck you," he said, leaning over to talk directly into her ear. "And you're going to like it."

"Somehow I doubt that," Isabella bit out. She shoved against his chest with both hands, succeeding in pushing him slightly away from her. But that just gave him enough room to work one hand under her skirt and slid his fingers under the elastic band of her underwear.

"Then why are you wet?" He asked triumphantly as he slipped two fingers inside her, drawing a harsh gasp from her throat. He traced his thumb in a circle around her clit, being careful not to make direct contact. "You like it rough, huh? Good, I'm going to treat you just like the whore you always will be." He punctuated his last words by twisting his fingers sharply inside her. She moaned and Edward couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

Pulling his fingers out of her, Edward hooked them in the waistband of her black lace underwear and worked it down over her hips. Sliding his hands under her ass, he lifted her up, dropping her on top of the desk as she kicked her legs free of the scrap of fabric.

In one motion, Edward jerked open the button and fly of his jeans and pushed them down, remembering to pull out the condom in his back pocket before they dropped around his ankles.

Isabella grabbed it out of his hand and reached down to wrap her fingers around his cock. Not a second later, Edward snatched it back and tore the condom open. "We wouldn't want there to be any accidents, now would we?"

Edward slid the latex over his cock before he lifted her legs up over his shoulders and guided himself inside her. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching as he pressed deep inside her. "You better be planning on making this worth it."

"Shut the fuck up," Edward growled. "I'm not paying you to talk."

Her head fell back as she lifted her hips off the desk to meet his and he focused on her tits, watching as they bounced with every thrust. He leaned over her, bracing his hands on the hard wood on either side of her shoulders, hitting an angle that let him push deeper. Edward groaned, pumping into Isabella frantically for a few more minutes before he came suddenly, shuddering above her.

She was still arching under him when he slipped out of her, tossed the condom on the floor and reached for his pants. Her eyes snapped open, glinting with anger as she panted raggedly, clearly on the edge of an orgasm. "What the fuck are you doing?" she gasped out, staring at him in disbelief as he zipped up his pants.

Edward dug a wad of Benjamins out of his pocket and tossed them carelessly at Isabella, turning his back on her as the bills scattered across her chest.

"Leaving."


End file.
